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hqkink2015-11-17 04:36 pm
hqkink_mod) wrote in hqkink2015-11-17 04:36 pm
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Prompt Post #1 [OPEN]
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FILL: "TITLE" (PAIRING TAGS, BRIEF SUMMARY/KINKS) (WARNINGS IF ANY)
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Tsukishima/Yamaguchi or Akiteru, force feeding
(Anonymous) 2014-10-23 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: "Cake" (Yamaguchi/Tsukishima Kei/Tsukishima Akiteru, force-feeding) (Incest, Emetophilia) 1/3
(Anonymous) 2015-05-15 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)Let's try this again and hope it posts right. I'm still embarrassed months later, lol)).
------
It started because he noticed just how sensual it was to watch Kei eat a meal that he really enjoyed. It wasn’t often, but every now and again he would just sit and watch the blond eat. The way his mouth opened just so, closing around the food; the slope of his neck as he dipped forward to meet his chopsticks, glasses that were in dire need of a refitting sliding down his nose; the muscles working in his jaw as he chewed, lips pulling in just slightly as he went to swallow. Tadashi would sit, mesmerized by it, watching the bob of Kei’s adam’s apple as he swallowed and started the show again.
It makes him want to lean forward and push food into Kei’s mouth, piece by piece and feel Kei chew and swallow against his fingers. He just had a thing for Kei’s sharp mouth— and anything that passed those lips; he got off the hardest when it was Kei’s mouth around his dick or when the blond would eat him out. He wonders idly if that’s why watching Kei eat was so fascinatingly erotic. His chopsticks droop from his fingers, sliding forward into his rice as he watched Kei nibble, grain-by-grain, on his own.
He decides it’s the other way around, instead, that he gets off so hard from being blown or licked open because it’s so much like when Kei eats and talks. He wants to pick up a handful of his rice and shove it into that pretty little mouth of Kei’s, stuff his cheeks full and watch him struggle to chew it. He taps his chopsticks absently against his bowl until Kei takes notice. He makes up for the desire to stuff Kei’s mouth full of rice later by fucking the blond’s face so hard that Kei is still half-heartedly and hoarsely bitching at him about his sore jaw the next morning.
He watches Kei eat with a mind full of obscenities, of thoughts that make him squirm in his seat and itch to try them out. He satisfies himself with just watching, though. He doesn’t want to discomfit the blond, after all. An at ease Kei was much more pliable and enjoyable than a stressed out Kei.
When Kei’s appetite starts to decline under the stress of juggling college and a nearly-full time job, Tadashi is both reasonably and unreasonably upset with the situation. After two days in a row where the only thing that passed Kei’s lips was coffee and an energy bar, Tadashi decides it’s time to take extreme action. Actions that are… questionable at best.
He calls Akiteru. He thought it would take a bit more coaxing to get the elder Tsukishima in on his plan, because like Kei, Akiteru was easily spooked by the strange nature of the relationship the three of them shared. But all Tadashi has to say is that Kei hadn’t eaten in two days and that he was horribly stressed, and would Akiteru please come over to ‘help’, and the older man asked for a time without a second’s thought.
Akiteru arrives that same afternoon with a large platter of shortcake in hand, lips pursed in a slight frown.
Tadashi ushers him into his and Kei’s apartment before Akiteru thinks better of coming. He’s been bashful and wary lately, not that Tadashi could particularly blame him for shying under the implications of what they’d indulged themselves in a few months previously. But Tadashi has plans that involve that cake and Akiteru.
He greets the older Tsukishma brother with a firm kiss. He takes the cake platter from Akiteru, grinning slyly as the blond stammers out a greeting after they part. Akiteru slides off his shoes and Tadashi loosely tangles their fingers together before leading him to the kitchen. He explains slowly what he wants to do, trying hard not to relish the flush that starts spreading across Akiteru’s face at his words.
He’d thought that maybe, Akiteru would bolt, but instead he taps his fingers thoughtfully against the table as they wait for Kei to come home. He doesn’t explicitly agree to participate, but Tadashi sees his eyes dart to the cake to the door, then to Tadashi himself, cheeks and ears blooming red.
Kei comes home within the hour, his ‘Tadashi, I’m home’ quiet and subdued. Tadashi rises from the table and goes to greet his lover. He smoothes his hands over the drawn, pale face and down the white teeshirt Kei’s stripped down to. He’s still in his work slacks, black and well-creased and well-fitting. Tadashi thanks the heavens that the uniform for the school library is so sharp-looking and suited for Kei. He hooks his fingers into Kei’s belt loops. “Aki-nii is here,” he murmurs.
Kei’s face barely flashes in recognition. “Mmn.”
Tadashi’s worried about Kei’s lethargy; it never means anything good when the blond is so quiet and sluggish. He rethinks his plan for about ten seconds, but then Kei’s tongue darts out and licks over his lips and Tadashi thinks just how cute it would be to force Kei’s mouth open to the point that that pink tongue lolls out. He leans forward onto the tips of his toes and licks into Kei’s mouth, kissing the blond with very languid movements, coaxing Kei into kissing him back and leaning into his body. Kei’s hands fit against his hips and pull him forward, tongues sliding together between their lips.
Tadashi breaks away and licks his lips as Kei gives a very mournful sounding sigh. He steps backwards and pulls Kei towards the kitchen. “I told him how worried I was about how sluggish you are,” he says quietly.
“He brought cake.”
Kei tips his head to the side, “Ah?”
“Shortcake, from the place in town you like. A whole one, not just slices,” Tadashi supplies. “I asked him to go get it.”
Kei blinks at him, eyes calculating something behind lowered lashes.
Tadashi wonders what he’s thinking, or if he’s remembering the last time Akiteru was in their apartment. He tugs Kei into the kitchen, where Akiteru watches them both with a look that makes Tadashi think of lost puppies. He has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, both Tsukishima brothers ready to fall at his knees, and he’s going to use that to see Kei stuffed and writhing—the excitement is burning through his bones, much like it did the first time Kei let him tie him up or the first time he’d watched Kei bow and arch his body underneath Akiteru’s shaking hands.
“Won’t you please eat something, Tsukki?” Tadashi wheedles, gesturing to the cake. “He got you this, because we know it’s your favorite.”
Kei eyes Tadashi, then the cake, and then his brother warily. “Not hungry,” he mutters. Tadashi can tell, by the way his mouth twists and his eyes dart around the room that Kei’s figured out that Tadashi has something planned, and he’s starting to worry about it; he’s starting to worry that introducing Akiteru to the equation was the wrong move.
“Not cute,” Akiteru tells Kei, reaching out to grab his brother’s hand. Kei’s cheeks bloom red at the action; it makes Tadashi’s stomach flip and his mouth goes dry as he watches how Akiteru gently rubs his thumb into Kei’s palm.
Tadashi watches as shivers wrack down his boyfriend’s spine and he silently cheers Akiteru on.
“Maybe a little?” Kei relents just as Akiteru brings his hand up to start kissing at bony knuckles. “So let go, niichan.” He turns and starts pulling away.
“No, I think Tadashi and I want to make sure you really eat,” Akiteru muses. He tugs at Kei’s hand, hard, and the blond goes toppling into Akiteru’s lap.
Akiteru snakes his arms around Kei’s waist, hands flat against the thin material of Kei’s plain tee shirt as Kei squirms a bit in his lap, severely unbalanced.
Tadashi cuts a piece of cake for Kei, larger than he knows the blond would serve for himself on a good-appetite day. His stomach does another flip-flop at the thought of Kei not eating all of it.
He hands Kei the plate.
“Fork, Yamaguchi,” Kei intones. He ignores the way Akiteru’s running his hands up and down his stomach, wiggling his knees underneath his own, until his legs are hooked to either side of Akiteru’s knees. He flushes, but says nothing, as Akiteru uses the position to spread both of their thighs open.
“They’re all dirty,” Tadashi lies blithely. He kneels himself in front both brother’s knees. He skims his hands in between Kei’s thighs, petting over the satiny material of Kei’s slacks as he settles between them on his own knees. “Just eat.”
Kei looks at the plate skeptically, then down at Tadashi. “Really?” he asks.
Tadashi rests his cheek sweetly against Kei’s lap, “Mmm, yep,” he murmurs. He nuzzles against Kei’s fly, relishing how the blond’s hips jerk slightly up into his cheek. Tadashi feels Akiteru’s thighs quiver as well, and the older Tsukishima threads his fingers into Tadashi’s hair.
Tadashi looks up and grins lazily, a sex-soaked smirk that makes both brothers, who both are peering down at him with very similar expressions, turn pink. “Eat it with your fingers. Do you want me to show you?” he offers.
FILL: "Cake" (Yamaguchi/Tsukishima Kei/Tsukishima Akiteru, force-feeding) (Incest, Emetophilia) 2/3
(Anonymous) 2015-05-15 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)Tadashi watches as his jaw works and his throat bobs as he swallows.
“Ah, no, I think I should still show you,” Tadashi murmurs. He unzips Kei’s slacks and tugs them down a bit. He hooks his fingers into Kei’s underwear and inches them down as well, ignoring Kei’s spluttering.
“Like this, Tsukki,” Tadashi instructs, taking Kei’s dick into his hands. He kisses the tip of it softly, running his tongue over soft flesh. “You have to really get your mouth full,” he says before dipping his head forward and taking as much as Kei as he can stuff into his mouth. He sucks on the tensing flesh, tongue working as he moves his jaw in mock-chewing motions, lips pulled in over his teeth. He groans as Kei swells and hardens in his mouth, loosening his lips to accommodate.
He can hear Akiteru hissing quietly as Kei starts to give very soft, breathless whimpers, hips jerking in very short, shuddering thrusts; the elder Tsukishima’s hand in his hair tightens and flexes against his skull.
Tadashi feels arousal start to swell hot in his stomach and his fingers tighten against Kei’s hips. He stops his ‘demonstration’ and caps it off by relaxing his mouth and letting Kei’s tip hit the back of his throat; he swallows around him once before he pulls off, letting saliva drip and pool obscenely out of the corners of his mouth.
He licks his lips and stares up at Kei. The hand holding the plate of cake is shaking badly, and Akiteru’s fingers are still tight in his hair. He grins slowly. “Like that,” he says.
Kei stares down at him, mouth slightly agape, breath harsh and quick.
“Mm, Tsukki, go on, eat, don’t you like it?” Tadashi says, pressing soft kisses up and down Kei’s shaft. He looks up and pouts. “Aki-nii, I don’t think he likes the cake.”
Akiteru inhales sharply, watching as Tadashi’s tongue darts out and licks at the head of Kei’s erection. His fingers tighten against Tadashi’s skull and Kei’s trembling abdomen. “I… is that so?” he murmurs, mouth dry. He tips his head forward and nuzzles softly against his brother’s neck. “Do you really not like it, Kei?” he asks.
“That’s… not—” Kei mumbles, tipping his head back as both Akiteru and Tadashi suck at his skin, two separate feelings in two separate places. He wonders if he eats if he’ll get release. He raises a hand and picks up a bit more of the cake this time. It crumbles and drops, bits of cake and strawberries dripping down onto his lap. A dollop of the inner cream falls onto Tadashi’s upturned face, and Kei feels like he’s in some sort of twisted porno. Tadashi grins and eats a piece of strawberry off of Kei’s lap as Kei nibbles on the piece of cake tentatively.
“Not like that,” Tadashi sighs. “All at once.”
Kei obliges, swallowing thickly. He gets about halfway through the piece before he has to stop. Tadashi stares up at him expectantly. Underneath him, Akiteru shifts, his brother’s growing erection pressing into his ass. He’s full and hot and uncomfortable. He squirms. The taste of sugar and strawberries is heavy on his tongue, making it feel thick and coated with a film.
“I can’t finish this,” Kei says finally. Tadashi leans onto his knees, straightening his spine; he starts lapping up the crumbs and cream from Kei’s strawberry-stained pink lips. He slides his tongue right into Kei’s mouth and licks up every ounce of still-sweet saliva from the blond’s mouth. There’s a shift as Kei tips his head into the kiss, and a soft groan. Tadashi can feel Akiteru’s hand twitching against Kei’s stomach. He reaches forward and grabs the hand from his hair, and slides it up to Kei’s chest. He presses down on Akiteru’s fingers, forcing the older man to rub at his brother’s nipples. He feels Kei’s erection brush against his stomach, precum dampening his tee-shirt. Kei moans into Tadashi’s mouth and grinds up into his stomach, hips rolling.
Akiteru’s knees shift on either side of Tadashi’s body, and the brunet realizes the older man is grinding himself into Kei. It makes him shiver, anticipated pleasure shooting right down to his cock. He reaches down and palms himself briefly through his jeans.
Tadashi pulls away, salivia trailing between Kei’s lips in his own. He watches as Kei fidgets as Akiteru rubs and plucks at his nipple, until his mouth falls open into a large, beautiful ‘oh’ as he pants in guilty pleasure. He starts grinding back into Akiteru as the older blond kisses up and down his pale neck. Tadashi watches as he swallows back moans, throat convulsing.
Tadashi takes the plate from Kei’s shaking fingers. He runs his fingers through the cream and reaches up to trace Kei’s lips with it, like he’s finger painting. Kei latches onto his finger with his lips and suckles them clean without prompting. His breath is ragged and hot against the back of Tadashi’s hand.
Tadashi reaches back down and takes a small chunk of cake into his fingers, rolling it a bit before shoving it straight into Kei’s mouth.
Kei gives a strangled noise of surprise. It looks like he’s about to spit the cake out, so Tadashi covers his mouth with his palm. “You’ve barely eaten in days,” he urges, “It’s not healthy. You’re so lethargic. I want you to have more energy, Tsukki.”
Kei closes his lips against Tadashi’s hand, eyes sharp as he chews. Tadashi can feel each muscle tightening and moving as he does. It’s thrilling. He runs his hand down Kei’s jaw to his neck, pressing down softy as Kei swallows, feeling the downward movement of the blond’s esophagus over the skin. “Good,” he coos. “Good.”
“Shit, Tadashi,” Kei snaps, “I said I was done.”
“You’ll be done when I think you’ve had enough to eat,” Tadashi retorts. After all, Kei hasn’t said the one thing that would make him stop—he has no plans to stop unless he hears it, or their slow-down phrase. “In any case, you sound like you want some more. Aki-nii?” he asks sweetly.
Akiteru pauses from rubbing circles against Kei’s skin. He moves the hand on Kei’s hip to his jaw. He positions his hand so his thumb is pressing against one side of Kei’s jaw, palm spanning his chin, and his fingers up against the joint on the other side. He pinches his fingers, forcing his brother’s mouth open.
He ruts up hard against Kei’s ass, feeling the way his brother’s body shudders and grinds back into the friction. He groans low in his throat. He watches as Tadashi stares hungrily at them both, his hand disappearing underneath the waistline of his jeans. The man’s face contorts briefly in a tightly controlled look of pleasure, and when it returns, precum glistens damp against his fingers.
That he shoves into Kei’s open mouth, forcing his brother to tip his head away from the movement. He can feel Kei struggle against the movement. He pushes his fingers a bit harder, preventing Kei from closing his mouth around Tadashi’s fingers.
Tadashi rubs at Kei’s tongue until it stretches out over his lips. He gathers the rest of the piece of cake into his hand, reaches up, and shoves it into Kei’s mouth. It’s far too much for it, and it fills his cheeks out obscenely around Akiteru’s fingers and Tadashi pushes his fingers in around the spongy confectionary, pushing it up against the back of Kei’s mouth. He watches in obscene fascination as tears spring up in Kei’s eyes and he struggles to swallow, open mouthed, around the cake.
“Aki-nii,” Tadashi simpers, leaning up into a low crouch so he can kiss Akiteru over Kei’s shoulder. Akiteru relaxes his grip on Kei’s jaw as Tadashi’s tongue slides against his own, still slightly salty from where he’d briefly sucked off his brother. Kei’s mouth and jaw works against his fingers, and he can feel, from where his hand is on Kei’s stomach, the blond struggle to swallow.
Seeing his normally so composed baby brother’s composure absolutely shattered was always so arousing—so was Tadashi’s sadistic and composed bedroom manner. Tadashi pulls away, panting and smirking and licking his lips. He leans back onto his heels, and watches as Kei jerks his hips up into the air, erection leaking and desperate for attention.
He obliges briefly, rewarding Kei for eating. He rubs his thumb against Kei’s slit before curling his fingers around him, pumping him firm and quick like Kei likes the best. He keeps going until Kei is giving short, helpless moans and thrusting into each twist of his wrists, and his fingers are soaked with precum. He stops just when the look of Kei’s face and the sound of his moans indicate that he’s just a few strokes away from coming, and he removes his hand. He scoops up another handful of cake, not bothering to cut pieces anymore, with his sticky fingers.
He presses it into Kei’s mouth without warning. Kei’s eyes go wide and he tries to turn his head away against Akiteru’s grip, but he can’t. His mouth is full, but it’s not bulging. Tadashi grabs another handful of cake, smearing strawberry syrup and cream on the table with his movements.
FILL: "Cake" (Yamaguchi/Tsukishima Kei/Tsukishima Akiteru, force-feeding) (Incest, Emetophilia) 3/3
(Anonymous) 2015-05-15 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)They’re only halfway through the cake and Tadashi wonders if he can last until the end of it—he thinks that if they stop now, the urge to stuff Kei full could be satisfied when he’s balls deep into the blond and Akiteru’s thrusting into him from behind, but then he’ll look at Kei struggling to take all of the cake Tadashi gives him into his mouth and he thinks that he can probably cum from the sight alone.
He grabs another handful of cake. Kei groans.
“I can’t,” he mutters, tongue thick with sweetness. It makes the back of his throat burn and his stomach is so full that nausea can’t even churn around in it, it sits heavy like a pit. He can taste bile in the back of his throat against shortcake and cream and the gritty pits of strawberries. “I’ll—“ he mumbles, throat spasming as bile and half-digested and half-chewed cake rises in the back of his throat. He struggles to hold it back. He tips his head back against Akiteru’s solid shoulders.
“Are you going to be sick, Tsukki?” Tadashi murmurs, stroking Kei’s thigh softly. “Are you really?”
Kei nods weakly, breathing shallowly through his nose. They’re too shallow, too quick, and each fill of his lungs presses up against his stomach. He doesn’t think he’s felt so sick in his life. He almost wants to throw up and be done with it. But Tadashi’s hand stops stroking his thigh and is palming at his cock again; if he’s sick, he thinks, then they’ll stop, and Tadashi’s hand is warm and hot and he wants to cum just as much as he wants to throw up. He knows he can make it stop entirely, he’s done it before, but he doesn’t want to. He wants Tadashi to finish this and let him cum.
“He’s made himself sick eating before,” Akiteru muses, hands working up and down Kei’s torso. “It was cake that time too,” he laughs as he circles a nipple with a feather-light touch. Kei nearly gags on the moan. Akiteru’s other hand is warm against his throat, pushing down just enough that Kei can’t feel the bile burning his esophagus.
Tadashi makes a humming noise and there’s a plastic sounding noise. Kei opens his eyes and peeks, watching Tadashi stretch forward as he drags a small trashcan to the side of his chair. “Just in case,” Tadashi sings, returning his slick and sticky fingers to their lazy patterns on Kei’s leaking and straining erection. He sounds unconcerned with the idea that Kei is very likely going to vomit—Kei wonders, not for the first time, just where Tadashi got his sadistic streak. Tadashi scoops up another handful of cake with the hand that’s not on his dick.
“No,” Kei says, but Tadashi’s fingers are back in his throat and he strains to not just throw up on the brunet. The cake is shoved into his mouth and another round of tears leak from his eyes as his jaw is stretched, yet again, past what he can handle, cake pushing soft and moist against his tonsils. He starts gagging, mouth filling with bile and salivia, and Tadashi keeps pushing more into his mouth, more and more, and he doesn’t have room in his mouth or stomach for this, but he has to swallow or else he’ll choke.
He breathes in sharply and swallows, just as Akiteru wraps a hand around his erection. He chokes on the cake as he cums from the extra stimulation, and it’s too much. He turns his head to the side and vomits violently. Akiteru keeps stroking him through each shuddering heave and jerk of his hips, and it makes him lurch; half-chewed cake and bile splatters against the kitchen floor as the movement makes him miss the trashcan pulled over just for him. The hand Akiteru had on his neck is now flat against his chest, supporting him as he keeps retching.
“Ah, he did throw up,” Tadashi says, tone piteous. “Poor Tsukki.”
Tadashi fills the edge of his vision and Kei chokes on a heave to keep from splattering sick onto his boyfriend, but Akiteru gives a hard twist of his fingers and it comes out anyway as Tadashi takes his glasses off of his nose and strokes his face with fingers that smell like cake. The smell sends him into another round of vomiting, his body rejecting every bit of the cake Tadashi had forced down his throat.
When he stops, finally, he’s aching and drained and limp—there’s nothing in his stomach but it still feels like it’s stretched full with cake, and he’s trying to process how he feels. He’s mortified, actually, that he’s been sick all over the kitchen floor and the feet of both Tadashi, who’s cooing gentle praises at him and stroking his arms and face with sticky fingers and Akiteru, who’s rubbing his stomach in the same sort of soft, soothing way he did when Kei was a child with the stomach flu, only back then his fingers weren’t slick with his cum. He groans quietly and feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.
Tadashi murmurs to him softly, whispering how good he’d been and how sweet it was of him to try so hard to eat for them. He’s rewarded by Akiteru scooping up into his arms as Tadashi stands; his brother carts him to his and Tadashi’s bed, and he’s cuddled and cleaned up. After they’re done taking care of him, he’s treated to the sight of Tadashi and Akiteru fucking, quick and rough, Tadashi’s hand thrown out to clench around his own, before they slide themselves up against him. Tadashi nuzzles into him like a cat while Akiteru rubs his back and buries his face against the crook of his neck and the sick, full feeling has long since faded. He feels empty and relaxed for the first time in days, like he’d purged his stress when he’d vomited. He’s sleepy and warm and sandwiched between his two favorite people.
He just makes Tadashi promise, that the next time this happens, it won’t be strawberry cake.
Re: FILL: "Cake" (Yamaguchi/Tsukishima Kei/Tsukishima Akiteru, force-feeding) (Incest, Emetophilia)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-07 02:27 am (UTC)(link)